Too Hot For Comfort
by quiet-heart
Summary: Dabi's in L.A. and just landed right in the laps of Callen and his people. They think she's a nice, normal teenage girl. They forget... she's a Gibbs, and wherever a Gibbs goes, trouble is sure to follow...
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

Debi Moore-Gibbs had a problem; she was in Los Angeles, California, supposed to be attending a conference for deaf and hard-of-hearing students, like herself. The weather was glorious, the hotel she was at was fabulous, and the company was good.

And she was bored silly.

Eric Armstrong, her boyfriend who was studying to be a police officer, was still in Washington, D.C., and so was her dad, Supervisory Agent Leroy Gibbs of NCIS, and her grandparents, Sharlee and Daniel Shemo of Kranz Bakery. Even her best friends, Fran Tucker and Abby Sciuto, were still there. In fact, the only one with her was Gibor, her Hearing Dog, a small Terrier-mix who went everywhere with her.

Gibbs was supposed to join her later for a surprise trip somewhere, but that was later. This was now.

And Dabi was bored.

And that was _never_ a good thing.

Which is how she wound up going for a car ride with a tiny woman whom Dabi was sure only just reached the four foot mark. Despite her height and her age, Henrietta Lange, or Hetty as she preferred to be called, Dabi had a sneaking suspicion she could more than hold her own.

A quick text to Gibbs confirmed that Hetty was not only on the level, she was also with NCIS, specifically Office of Special Projects, or OSP. She was also the Operations Manager.

"_She's as good as they get,"_ Gibbs texted. "_So are her people. Hetty thinks you'll like Deeks._"

"_Deeks?_"

"_I have no doubt you'll meet him. Abby liked him, called him a sweet puppy mutt._"

"_Is that an insult or a compliment?_"

_"This is Abby we're talking about._"

"_Good point._"

Hetty was charming, Dabi decided as the sleek black car wove its way through L.A., with her speech being steady and pronounced. She even knew what Gibor and Dabi meant in Hebrew; hero and dearly loved.

"Your father mentioned you were in L.A. and had the unfortunate problem of being bored," Hetty said, seated in the back with her and Gibor.

"Yeah, but I'm not stupid enough to wander off by myself," said Dabi. "I know what can happen to girls like me."

"A wise idea, my dear. I understand you're familiar with the operations of NCIS?"

Dabi nodded. "After Dad found me, his team kind of adopted me. I don't know any dark or dirty little secrets, but I know what they do." She rubbed Gibor's ears, who had his head in her lap. "I know how to shoot, how to use a knife, how to fight, and how to spot trouble."

"Those are always good things to know. I will show you what we do at OSP and I will introduce you to my team. I do believe you'll find them interesting."

"Dad mentioned someone named Deeks? Said Abby liked him?"

"Ah, Mr. Marty Deeks. A bit of a skirt-chaser but a good man, and a good detective."

"So he's not an agent?"

"No, he's our liaison with the LAPD. I had hoped to convince him to become an agent."

"One day at a time."

"Indeed. Ah, here we are."

_Inside:_

"Hey Neil, where's Hetty?" Special Agent in Charge G. Callen asked Neil Jones, OSP's intelligence analyst.

"She went to pick up Agent Gibbs' daughter, who's apparently in town," Neil replied, stopping at his desk.

"Gibbs has a daughter?" Senior Field Agent Sam Hanna asked. "Since when?"

"Since apparently eighteen years ago," was the smooth reply.

By now Junior Field Agent Kensi Blye and her partner, Detective Marty Deeks, had joined them. "Well, what does she look like?" Kensi asked. She had worked with Gibbs before and he'd made no mention of a daughter, even though his file had stated a deceased daughter by the name of Kelly.

"C'mon, Neil, give," said Sam, when the young woman hesitated.

"She's pretty, with red hair," Neil admitted.

"Why does that not surprise me?" said Callen. "Gibbs always went for the girls with red hair."

"What else?" Kensi asked.

"What do you mean what else?" Neil asked innocently.

"Any time anyone comes our way, you _always_ do the full run-down on them," said Kensi. "Give."

Neil hesitated, glancing at the others, who all looked at her pointedly.

"You're itching," said Deeks. "I can tell." Then he blinked. "Although that does bring to mind other kinds of itching."

"And your mind is in the gutter, as usual," said Kensi, glaring at him.

"Who said I was talking about that kind of itching?" he protested. "I could have been talking about the itchy-scratchy kind of itchy! Itchy sweater and all that!"

"Any way, Neil?" Sam asked, trying to head off the conversation before Deeks got Kensi's foot up his backside.

"Dabi Abria Moore-Gibbs, eighteen, five-eleven, mom was Amanda Moore, who died as a result of a drunk driver when Dabi was eleven, recently changed her surname to Moore-Gibbs, is attending Washington Community College, majoring in business management, and was the main witness in a murder investigation Gibbs investigated, twice," Neil rattled off.

"Twice?" Callen repeated, eyebrows going up.

"Once in Washington and once in Stillwater, Pennsylvania."

"Okay, and?" Sam asked.

"And wow!" said Deeks, eyes going wide as he spotted something past them.

Heads snapped around. Walking towards them was Hetty and a tall, pretty teenage girl with red hair in a pony tail. Wearing denim shorts, a bright racer-back crop top under a white semi-sheer scoopneck tank top with lower-cut armholes, and sneakers, with sunglasses perched on her head and a small purse slung across her chest, she looked like any typical teenage L.A. girl.

Then...

"The hearing dog, Neil?" Callen asked, referring to the little terrier dog in a bright orange jacket who trotted beside his mistress, ears up, tail wagging.

"She's deaf. Meningitis at six," Neil said.

"We are so in big trouble, especially if she's anything like Gibbs," said Kensi.

"Her high school records indicate she'd gotten into a few fights," Neil admitted.

"If anything happens to her while she's in L.A., Gibbs is going to give us a whole new meaning of the word 'trouble'," said Eric Beale, OSP's technical analyst, joining them. "I just spoke to Abby. Seems Gibbs didn't know about Dabi until last May. Think Papa Bear on steroids."

"We're in big trouble," said Callen.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Deep cover operations that could last months or even years. Terrorist attacks that would make 9-11 look like a walk in the park. Murder. Theft. Things that were a little more serious than what MCRT dealt with.

"So Dad deals with the idiots and you guys deal with the sociopaths," said Dabi.

"That's if we're lucky," said Sam. "Some of these guys are bucking for the position of the Devil's right-hand man."

"I am so glad I'm just studying to take over my grandparents bakery," Dabi muttered.

She had been introduced to Callen, Sam, Kensi, Deeks, Eric, and Neil. They all understood she was deaf and, to her delight, Eric knew sign language.

There was just one teeny tiny little problem. For some reason Gibor did not like Deeks. He had started growling the moment he'd spotted him.

"I'm really sorry," said Dabi, keeping a firm grip on her beloved pet. "He's never done this to anyone, not like this."

"Do you know what his background is?" Callen asked.

"Not really. The vet found a tattoo in his hear, but beyond that, no clue. I found him as a stray in Stillwater, over the summer. Locals said he'd been there for a while but no one knew where he'd come from. I adopted him after he saved me from nearly being hit by a truck that had come around a blind bend," said Dabi.

"If you give me the tattoo numbers, maybe we can trace him," Neil offered. "It's a long shot but it's worth a try."

It took a little coaxing and a bit of patience but they managed to get the faded numbers and letters. Armed with the information, Neil promised to do her best, while Eric and Callen showed her around the facilities.

At the gun range, Eric offered to buy her a true L.A. pizza if she could cold consistently hit the center of the target, having heard from Abby that she had been taught how to shoot by Gibbs and his team.

"Ten rounds in a SIG Sauer, going live," said Dabi, putting the clip in, racking the slide, and pulling back the safety.

"How far?" Callen asked.

"Hundred," Dabi replied.

The target was set and Dabi took aim. Ten rounds later, they were looking at the target.

"You've been taught well," said Callen. All ten rounds were grouped fairly close together.

"I never wanted to learn, but when your dad's a former Marine sniper and an NCIS agent who has a habit of pissing people off, plus a boyfriend who's studying to become a cop, that's when it becomes a necessity," said Dabi, removing the empty clip before setting the gun down as she had been taught. "You owe me a pizza," she said to Eric.

"And I know just the place to go," he replied, smiling.

Later:

"Found out why Gibor doesn't like Deeks," said Neil, carrying an iPad as she joined them at their desk.

"Because he has good taste?" Kensi asked sweetly.

"Hey! Dogs like me!" Deeks protested. "I made friends with Monty, didn't I?" he said, referring to the bomb-sniffing dog he'd adopted.

"That's not a dog, that's a walking garbage disposal," said Sam.

"Whom your daughter spent four hours having a tea party with the last time I baby-sat her," Deeks shot back.

"Did you ever manage to get the lipstick off his face?" Kensi asked, grinning.

"That was lipstick? I thought it was strawberry juice," said Deeks, eyes going wide.

"That explains why Quinn found dog hair in her lipstick," Sam groaned.

"Oops," said Deeks.

"Oops is right," said Neil. She held up her iPad and tapped an icon, transferring the file to the main plasma screen. "Gibor once belonged to this really nice guy, Parker Markan. He's currently doing time for animal cruelty and a few other charges, way over in Pennsylvania. Seems he had a habit of creating puppy mills that were less than sanitary, and Gibor was one of those puppies. I found his number in the files I dug up from a local vet's office, the same vet who was also nailed for the puppy mill business."

"Looks like Gibor is a cross between a Jack Russell and a Border terrier," said Callen, studying the file on the screen. "Small but agile, and very smart. Probably why he makes such a good hearing dog."

Deeks glared at the image of the man on the screen. Parker Markan bore a strong resemblance to him, with shaggy -, I am going to make friends with Gibor."

"I can hear your bank account crying already," said Kensi.

"A man on a mission," he said. "Neil, I need the nearest butcher shop and a pet store that specializes in dogs. When are we supposed to see Dabi again?"

"Eric took her to a pizza parlor and I promised to do a training session with her tomorrow," Callen said.

"A training session? On what?" Kensi asked.

"Apparently McGee and DiNozzo aren't giving her much of a fight; they're a bit afraid of her, so she wants a chance to fine-tune some of her lessons," said Callen, smirking.

"That should be fun," said Sam. "She looks like she could break in half with one wrong move."

"She mentioned Ziva was training her but whenever she tried to get anyone other than her boyfriend or her dad to train with her, the guys run in terror," said Callen. "It seems they're afraid of the Boss's Daughter."

"Maybe we should get the rubber knife involved," said Kensi, an idea coming to her mind.

"The electric shocky thingie one?" Deeks asked nervously.

"The one you got zapped with? Yup," said Kensi, grinning evilly. "If nothing comes up, this could be an interesting session."

"I fear you," said Deeks, eyes wide. Then he turned his attention to Neil. "Any way, one way or another, I will make friends with Gibor."

"If he bites you, I'm taking pictures," said Kensi, smirking.

"If he bites me, will you kiss it better?" Deeks asked.

"No, I'll be too busy laughing," said Kensi.

"And here I thought you were my partner."

"I am, but that doesn't mean I'm not going to have some fun at your expense," Kensi shot back.

"Your fun, my pain. I think I'd better check my health insurance," Deeks muttered.

The next day:

"So I don't have to pull back on the punches?" Dabi asked hopefully.

"Wouldn't be any fun if you did," said Callen, circling her on the training mat. He wore work-out clothes and so did she, with her hair pulled back in a braid. Both wore padded gloves.

"Cool!"

"Of course, if you want a real training session, Sam's got a few tricks he could show you," Callen offered, throwing a punch that she blocked.

"Yeah?"

"Former Navy SEAL."

Dabi's eyes lit up. "That explains the muscles under his shirt." She threw a punch of her own that he blocked and only just blocked the kick to his stomach. She followed up with a flurry of punches and kicks he was hard-pressed to block.

"You're good," he admitted.

"And this is fun," she said.

"Yeah? Wait until the rubber knife gets involved."

Dabi grinned in anticipation. "Tony's going to be terrified of me when I get back to Washington." Then she blinked, remembering something. "I wonder if he found the rubber snakes in the trunk of his car yet? I know Abby helped me spring-load a dozen of them before I left."

"Rubber snakes?" Callen repeated, not sure about what he was hearing.

"Yeah, he and I have an on-going war. He still hasn't forgiven me for buttering his kitchen floor or putting itching powder in his underwear drawer some weeks back."

Callen tried not to cringe. Then he started laughing. Deeks was now on the floor on his back, thanks to Dabi suddenly tossing him over her shoulder. He had just made the bad mistake of putting his hand on her shoulder when her adrenaline was rushing.

"Why do we have stars in the training room?" the detective asked in a dazed voice.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Deeks managed to get up off the floor, still looking a little looped, but otherwise okay.

"Wow," he said, looking at Dabi with respect. "I am never doing that again."

"Mess with the best, get beaten like the rest," said Dabi, "and I've been trained by the best."

"It shows," said Callen. "What's up?" he asked Deeks.

"I have a special surprise for Gibor," was the reply.

At the sound of his name, Gibor perked up from where he was dozing in a nearby corner.

"Okay," said Dabi.

Deeks held up a cloth store bag he had managed to hold on to despite being flipped, and grinned. "Only the best raw hide bone, a rope tug toy, and gourmet doggie biscuits." He named the brand, and Dabi's eyebrows shot up.

"That set you back a pretty penny, didn't it?" she asked.

"Gibor doesn't like me because I look like the guy he hates. I'm going to make friends with him one way or another."

"This I have _got_ to see," said Kensi, joining them, along with Sam.

Dabi called Gibor over, and kneeled down beside the dog when he came. Keeping a firm grip on his collar in case he decided to take a piece out of Deeks, Dabi pointed to Deeks and said firmly, "Friend."

That didn't stop the little dog from growling at the detective. Deeks reached into the bag and pulled out one of the biscuits. After making sure his scent was on the biscuit, he carefully offered it to Gibor.

Gibor sniffed the air before starting to lick his chops. He was interested.

"Hey buddy," said Deeks. "I'm not the bad guy, I promise. I'm a good guy and I got all kinds of really good treats for you. What do you say?"

Gibor sat down and tilted his head, a curious expression on his face.

"You want to try this? It's really good," said Deeks. He took another biscuit out and bit into it, to the amazement of his team members. Gibor's tongue shot out again, licking his face. He tugged at his collar, and Dabi let him go but kept her hand on his back, just in case. Cautiously, he moved to accept the biscuit and when he finished eating it, he looked at Deeks as if to say, "well? Where's more?" Grinning, Deeks gave him another one, and this time Gibor let him pet him.

Then Deeks brought out a rope toy and Gibor's tail started wagging. He knew what that toy meant; tug-of-war time!

"I don't believe it," said Kensi, watching in amazement as Gibor engaged in a very ferocious game of tug-of-war with Deeks.

"Believe it," said Sam, grinning at the antics.

"Tough dog, huh? You're a big, tough dog! Yes you are! Just a big, tough dog!," said Deeks to Gibor, who was growling and tugging as hard as he could at the rope, tail wagging the whole time.

"That worked," said Dabi. She glanced at Sam and said, "What's this about you being a former Navy SEAL?"

"That I am," said Sam, grinning.

"Good. You got any knife tricks?"

He went and got a set of training knives and handed one to her. "Show me whatcha got."

What she had was basic skills. What she got was a few new tricks, especially when she told him about the knife her dad had given her that she'd left at home because the airport wouldn't allow her to bring it.

After nearly an hour of training, Dabi was hot and covered in sweat. Kensi, very impressed with the young red-head, kindly pointed her towards the women's locker room facilities so she could have a shower. It was while she was having a shower that she discovered a minor problem; her Monthly Curse had shown up sooner than expected and she had no supplies.

Muttering something rude, she took care of it as best as she could before seeking out Kensi.

"I'm really sorry to bother you but do you know where there's a drug store nearby?" Dabi muttered to the junior field agent.

"Sure. What's wrong?" Kensi asked quietly, seeing the teen's face turn scarlet.

"My monthly cycle just started sooner than I expected and I don't have anything with me and I don't know the area."

"Oh, okay," said Kensi, nodding in understanding. "Do you need Midol?"

Dabi shook her head. "Not right now but I will pick some up. If you could point me to an Orange Julius, I'll get a strawberry banana smoothie; bananas are high in potassium and I find it helps with the cramps."

"The perfect monthly comfort food," said Kensi, agreeing. "There's a store a few blocks from here that'll have what you need if you don't mind walking."

"Good way to wind down," said Dabi. "I just don't want to admit to the guys about my little problem."

"They won't hear it from me, I promise." She turned towards the men and raised her voice. "Hey guys, me and she are going for ice cream and a girls-only chat session."

"Sounds ominous," said Deeks. "Whenever a girl says they're going to have a girls-only chat session, it usually involves some poor guy getting his balls shredded."

"Or worse," said Sam.

"There's something worse than getting your balls shredded?" Deeks asked, a worried look on his face.

"Skinned and boiled in oil... while they're still attached to you," said Sam. Kensi smiled at the idea.

"That's almost like how I make fritters," said Dabi in a perfectly innocent tone of voice, "except we usually dip them in a flour and water paste first, so they cook just right."

Deeks face went a little pale. "Heh."

"Have fun," said Callen to Kensi and Dabi. "You're getting better with the knife. If everything's quiet tomorrow, I'll show you a few tricks with the gun."

"Sounds good," said Dabi, smiling.

"You shoot?" Kensi asked Dabi as they walked away, Gibor beside them, looking a little pooped. He and Deeks had finished a very serious, very energetic tug-of-war that had turned into a very nice belly rub.

"Dad and Ziva have been teaching me. I can use a rifle and a SIG Sauer and I'm a pretty good shot," Dabi admitted, watching as Kensi took her own SIG Sauer from her desk and put it under her shirt, along with her federal agent badge. "I don't own a gun and I don't want to, but I can shoot if I have to. Dad's been trying to teach me to shoot on the fly, as he calls it. Shoot and run."

"That's tricky," Kensi admitted, "but it's good to know how to do."

"All I want to do is run Kranz Bakery, but with Dad being an NCIS agent who's pissed off his share of nut jobs, most of whom know how to use a gun, and with my boyfriend studying to be a cop, a lot of people want me to learn."

"What's special about Kranz Bakery?"

"It's owned by my grandparents, specializes in Jewish treats, and I'm next in line to take over. I'm studying Business Management."

_Half an hour later:_

"Drive-by shooting, three blocks from here," Eric reported, while Neil worked frantically to pull up any cameras in the area. "Kensi said she and Dabi were heading back to Ops when someone in a black SUV open fired on the crowd she and Dabi were in. She thinks Dabi got a good look and a shot off when she snagged Kensi's gun."

The call had come in, with Kensi barking orders at Eric. Eric had yelled for the rest of the team and Hetty and everyone had come running.

"Is Dabi okay?" Callen asked.

"Kensi says she and Gibor are fine, but there are casualties and Dabi's already tending to them," Eric said, also working at the computer.

"Got 'em," Neil reported. A street camera view was brought up on one large screen and as the playback began, everyone watched in grim silence. Then Hetty spoke.

"Mr. Deeks, your partner, now."

"Already on my way," he said, already moving.

"Mr. Callen and Mr. Hanna..."

"Right behind him," said Callen, already following Deeks out, Sam right behind him.

Hetty looked at the two computer experts and said, "I don't believe I need to tell you what to do, do I?"

"No ma'am," said Neil, fingers already flying as she zoomed in on something on the video. Eric didn't say anything; he was too busy running facial recognition programs on the victims of the shooting.

"Good. I am going to place a phone call and it is one I am most definitely not looking forward to," said Hetty, leaving the room.

Eric glanced at Neil, who was cringing.

"Who to? Director Vance?" he asked.

"No, Agent Gibbs, Dabi's dad. He is going to be pissed," said Neil.

"Oh, _that_ phone call. Oh boy."


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

Dabi's hands were shaking as she applied the compress to the man's arm. He had been hit by a stray bullet but would be okay, she hoped.

A nearby store that sold industry and office supplies had broken out their First Aid supplies in the aftermath of the short, but ugly, drive-by shooting.

"Do you have any idea why they did this?" the man asked. He tapped her hand when she didn't respond, and when she looked up, he repeated his question.

"I don't know," Dabi replied. "I wish I did. I'm sure they think they had a reason, but they didn't stick around long enough to announce it."

"Bastards," the man muttered.

As a paramedic took over, Kensi joined her.

"How is he?" she asked.

"I'm not a doctor, but it looks like he'll be okay," said Dabi.

"Good. The others are on their way."

"Dad's going to be pissed."

"Why?"

"Because I've been shot at enough already as it is, and the jerks didn't stick around long enough for me to really return the favor."

"I don't know about that; you got off at least six shots in that SUV of theirs," said Kensi. "That was impressive."

"I hate stuff like this; I'm supposed to be attending a conference for deaf students, maybe having a little fun, not dealing with some_ ocën_ (jackass) whose brain developed backwards!"

"You speak Russian?" Kensi asked.

"Dad does. He taught me a few insults to add to my vocabulary, which includes Hebew insults." She ran a hand over her face. "What's the legal age to drink in California?"

"Twenty-one."

"Damnit, not old enough."

Kensi smiled in sympathy. Just then, Deeks and Callen and Sam came running up.

"Kens, Dabi, you guys okay?" Deeks asked.

"We're good," said Kensi. Dabi nodded, Gibor at her feet, not looking too happy. Deeks reached into his pocket and pulled out a doggie biscuit for him, giving the small dog a head-rub while he munched.

Despite the noise and confusion, the loyal little terrier had stuck close to his mistress and followed her around as she tried to help the shooting victims.

"What happened?" Callen asked.

Kensi began talking.

_A few minutes ago:_

There was a coffee shop near an industry and office supply store and Kensi had treated Dabi to an iced coffee after getting the necessary feminine hygiene products. Dabi liked Kensi, who had learned about her mom's death and the story behind her relationship with Gibbs and his team. Kensi had also learned the story of the paw print and butterfly tattoos.

"Nana and Pop-Pop taught me everything I know about baking. My specialty is cheesecake, especially a traditional Jewish cheesecake that sells like crazy around Shavuot."

"Shavuot?"

"A yearly celebration that celebrates God's giving of the Torah to the Jews," Dabi explained. "Pop-Pop taught me the same recipe his parents taught him, and down the line."

"That's pretty special," said Kensi.

"I want to be a better baker, not a better shooter or fighter," Dabi groused.

Kensi was about to say something when an SUV caught her attention and her instincts started screaming. Dabi noticed it too and suddenly she and Kensi were being hit by a heavy-set gentleman as things started exploding around them from the impact of multiple bullets.

Kensi was trapped under the heavy man, but Dabi wasn't.

She didn't think, she just reacted. Grabbing Kensi's gun from her back, Dabi rolled up, already releasing the safety, and came up firing.

The back passenger window shattered, along with the rear window, all tinted as dark as Californian law allowed.

There was no license plate, Dabi saw, but she got a good look at one of the passengers, just before she managed to put a round in his back.

_Boy was going to be hurtin'_, she thought dimly.

Then Kensi was beside her, her hands scraped from her fall, Gibor right beside her, whimpering in fear.

"No plate," Dabi reported, removing the gun's clip and checking it, before slapping it back in and handing the gun to Kensi. "But I put a round in the passenger. Anyone hurt?"

"A couple of people," said Kensi. "Cops and ambulance already on the way."

"Good." She jerked her head towards the industry and office supply store. "Looks like they're breaking out the First Aid supplies."

"Yeah. Let's go see what we can do to help and I'll try and figure out who was the target."

_Now:_

"It looks like Paul Macabe, a business man for a store called Vintage Imports, was the target. From the quick glance I got, the bullet holes start at his store and concentrate there," said Kensi. "His wife was also hit, and so were several other people."

"Serious?" Callen asked.

"Paul Macabe took a couple of hits to the chest, but he was alive when the paramedics took him, so we'll have to wait and see. Everyone else is mostly flesh wounds and grazes. Yelling '_gun_' these days tends to get people down pretty fast."

"Being hit by an over-weight gorilla does that too," said Deeks.

"You saw that, huh?" Kensi asked.

"Hard not to," said Sam, discreetly pointing to one of the traffic cams.

"Eric, give me everything you've got on Paul Macabe and his store, Vintage Imports," said Callen, already on his cell.

"_On it_," was the crisp reply. "_We've tracked the vehicle to a warehouse that looks empty but we lost them there. Sending you the address now._"

"We need to get Dabi to safety," said Callen, hanging up.

"You need to keep me with you and give me a gun," the teen shot back. "Right now I'm safer with you guys and I can identify one of the shooters."

"Your dad isn't going to be happy," Callen warned her.

"Wanna bet?" she asked, holding up her iPhone.

There was a text message on it; it was from Gibbs.

"_YOU DO NOT LET CALLEN OUT OF YOUR SIGHT! I'M ON MY WAY. SOMEONE IS GOING TO GET THEIR ASS KICKED!"_

"Hetty called him," Deeks guessed.

"And he's pissed," said Callen.

"You like a SIG Sauer or do you prefer another model?" Kensi asked Dabi.

Dabi just sighed heavily.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

_Drive-by shooting... Dabi and Gibor with Agent Kensi Blye... Dabi appears to have seen one of the shooters while shooting back... Unknown causalities but confirmed Dabi and Gibor not among them... Callen and team enroute... _

Gibbs was pissed off. He had gotten the call from Hetty and had stopped at his home long enough to grab a travel bag before heading to a local airport, where Hetty had promised to pull a favor with someone and get him a direct flight to Los Angeles.

As he waited for the pilot to finish the pre-flight checks, he got a message from Dabi.

"_With Callen and his people. Eric B. found the shooter's SUV at a possible empty warehouse. Heading to the location now. Me and G. are okay, just shaken._"

"_You either stay in the car or you stick to Callen like glue_," Gibbs sent back.

"_Already planning on it_," was the reply. "_Getting sick of being shot at. :(_"

"_Don't blame you. Plane is taking off in a short bit so I should be in L.A. by nightfall_."

"_Buzz me when you get in. Love you lots_."

"_Love you too sweetheart_."

_In L.A.:_

"Your dad?" Deeks asked, watching as Dabi smiled at the latest iMessage.

"Yup. Rule Five, always tell the ones you love that you love them, because you may not get another chance," said Dabi.

"That's a good rule," said Kensi. "What are the first four?"

"Rule One: just because you can, doesn't mean you should, especially if it involves a fight.

Rule Two: never leave home without your cell phone or your dog.

Rule Three: always carry a knife. I usually have the one Dad gave me, but airport restrictions being what they are, I had to leave it at home." She didn't see the look Callen and Sam shared. "And Rule Four is always work as a team. I also have Rule Six, which is: if someone is down, you help them. The exception is the bad guy that just tried to hurt you. Rule Seven: when you're pulling a prank, always have an exit strategy."

"What kind of pranks have you pulled?" Deeks asked, his eyes lighting up.

"That's going to have to be a story for another time, kids; we're here," said Callen. His cell phone went off; it was Eric.

"_Paul Macabe, Citrus Avenue address, natural-born citizen with Italian-immigrated parents_," he reported. "_Vintage Imports was started by his father and he took over twenty-two years ago. No criminal records or suspicions of anything illegal. Only person in the family that has a record is Marcus Macabe, busted for DUI when he was nineteen; he's twenty-five now_."

"Paul's status?" Callen asked.

"_Alive but it's touch and go_," was the reply.

"Keep digging. This may or may not be NCIS-related and if it is, I want to make sure we can investigate without Granger nipping at our heels," instructed Callen, referring to NCIS Assistant Director Owen Granger.

The Assistant Director had a love-hate relationship with Callen and the rest of the team. They loved it when he kept his distance from their cases and hated him when he ordered them around and didn't clarify his reasons.

"In the mean time, get the building plans for this place; I don't want to go in blind."

"_Get hooked up and I'll start giving_."

"And keep Dabi in the loop by messaging her."

"_Got it_."

As the team geared up for a take-down, Callen gave Dabi some instructions.

"Keep your phone with you; Neil or Eric will be messaging you during this operation, so that means watch closely." Dabi nodded. He handed her a loaded SIG Sauer and an extra clip. He watched as she checked it over, even checking the clip before racking the slide to check the chamber.

"Rule Eight; always check your weapon yourself, even if you trust the person handing it to you," she said.

"A very good rule," said Callen. "Keep Gibor close, the doors locked, and your head down. Be prepared for trouble. Do you drive?"

"I can turn on the engine but that's it."

"Okay, if you see us running, turn on the motor, unlock the doors, and get ready, because if we're running, then Hell is right behind us."

"Understood. _Byt' bezopasnym_ (be safe)."

He smiled. "You too."

The team took off for the building and Dabi and Gibor hunkered down, a pair of binoculars nearby, the gun in one hand and her cell in the other.

"Talk to us, Eric," Sam snapped

"_It looks like the suspect vehicle went into the loading bay furthest to your left_," Eric reported. "_The building isn't abandoned but it isn't in use at the moment. I haven't seen any movement but the cameras in the area aren't that great_."

"Keep us posted."

"_Alway_s."

They entered the docking bay cautiously, weapons at the ready. The SUV that had been seen at the scene was there, missing one of the passenger windows and the rear window. While everyone else kept a close eye out for trouble, Deeks quickly checked the vehicle.

"We got blood on the passenger side, but no shooter," he reported. "Dabi got a few good shots in."

"Good girl," said Kensi.

The team moved forward, following the trail of blood that was spotted on the floor. Inside what used to be a docking office, they found a body. He was a twentyish male with tanned or dusky skin, dark hair, and a bullet hole between his eyes. He also had a bullet wound near his right shoulder, coming in from behind.

"Looks like his injury made him a liability," said Kensi, while Callen snapped a picture of the dead man's face for Eric and Neil to run through facial recognition. He really didn't want to show it to Dabi, but he was going to have to.

A quick sweep of the building turned up tire tracks in a blind spot behind the building. Whoever the driver-killer was, he was long gone.

"Call it in," said Callen to Eric. "Have someone process that vehicle. If they're smart, they wiped it down, but if they're not, we may get a clue."

"_Hearing you loud and clear_," said Eric. Then; "_You need to get back to the car, guys; Dabi's reporting seeing someone suspicious watching her and it's a large white van with no windows._"

"On our way. Tell her to keep her head down but be ready," Sam snapped, while the rest of the team bolted out of the office.

"_Head down_," Eric reported. "_She's not seeing a plate or anything unique about the van, but she can see a male with Caucasian skin tone and light brown hair watching her or possibly the building_. _She's wondering if it's the driver_."

"Possibly. We're almost there," said Callen.

They got there in time to see a white van tear down the road. As Dabi said, there was no plate and nothing unique about it. The car was already running and the doors were unlocked. Everyone piled in and Callen whipped the car into a reversing turn-around maneuver that Dabi swore was going to give her whiplash, before tearing down the road after the van.

"Eric, follow that van!" Callen snapped.

"_Following,_" Eric replied. "_He just made a right turn at Eighty-second Street. Better catch up, guys; there's not a lot of traffic cameras in that area._"

"Trying to!" Sam snapped.

Then traffic got too heavy, even for a nimble little car like the one they were driving, and despite Callen's best efforts and Eric's help, they soon lost the van. Then Neil had more bad news.

"_You guys need to get back here; facial recognition just coughed up the name of the shooter and it ain't good._"

Deeks repeated what Neil had just said to Dabi and she scowled. "You're about to have a bitchy teenage girl on your hands and a pissed off Supervisory Agent on your hands and that ain't good either!"


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

Dabi and Gibor were curled up the corner of a couch near Hetty's office. An iPad was in one hand, which was playing _The Thomas Crown Affair_ with Rene Russo and Pierce Brosnan, complete with subtitling, and a cup of chamomile-lemon tea with honey was in the other. Gibor was curled up next to her, dozing contentedly with his head peeking out from under the blanket around Dabi, which also hid the heating pad that was across her hips and stomach. Hetty, upon learning of Dabi's little problem, had kindly set her up with the iPad, tea, blanket, and heating pad.

Dabi had seen the picture of the dead passenger and confirmed him as the one she'd seen earlier. The hole in his face had not amused her.

Everyone else was gathered in Ops.

"His name is Joseph Fielding, a known member of a group of gun runners run by a guy known as Arboreal Omen," said Nell.

"I know that name," said Deeks. "It's come up in a few investigations that I know of but the guy's a damn ghost."

"Exactly. He's also ruthless; if he thinks you're a liability, you're dead. Just like Joseph Fielding," said Nell. "NCIS has been investigating him, and so have the FBI, DEA, and every other agency." She pulled up some reports on the main screen and continued. "Arboreal Omen has a nasty little habit of getting small import businesses to work either for or with him. That's how he gets his weapons across the border."

"And those that don't want to work with or for him?" Callen asked.

Eric pulled up a series of photos showing murder victims and bombed-out buildings. "He targets family members, heads of the family, their business, even their homes. You don't say no to this guy."

"And his competition?" Callen asked.

"Last week a known gun runner by the name of Leo Crowley was found shot to death, along with six other known members of his crew. A day later the Crow's lieutenant was spotted with a member of Arboreal's crew," said Nell.

"And the description of the guy Dabi gave us?" Kensi.

"She did better than that," said Eric, grinning as he pulled up a grainy photo. "She got a picture of the guy. It's not perfect, considering the distance and the fact that she took it through the binoculars, but it's pretty good."

"Name?" Sam asked.

"Still running," said Eric, "but if he's connected to Arboreal's crew, we'll find him."

"What's the connection to Vintage Imports?" Deeks asked.

"Got to be weapons. Arboreal suggested they do business, Paul Macabe said no, and Arboreal had him shot," said Callen. "Hetty?"

"NCIS has been investigating this particular fellow and this is one of the few times we've had a lead on him," said Hetty. "Take him down before Agent Gibbs finds him and beats him to death for shooting at his daughter."

"Any word on Macabe?" Callen asked Eric and Nell.

"Last report is that he's out of surgery but still critical," said Nell.

"Kensi, you and Deeks get over to the hospital. Talk to his family, see what they know. Make sure you post a guard with him. I don't trust Arboreal to finish what he started, especially if the family continues to resist," said Callen.

"Going, going, gone," said Deeks, following Kensi out the door.

"What's the word on that SUV?" Callen asked.

"CSU is still going through it but they've found a few prints and one of them does not belong to the deceased passenger," said Eric. "They're running it now."

"You find that driver; he's our link to Arboreal Omen," said Callen.

"And Dabi and Gibor?" Nell asked.

"Get them out of the hotel. I don't trust Arboreal to start trying to find Dabi, especially when we start poking around. She's just a kid and I don't want her caught in the crossfire again. Who else has Arboreal been knocking at?" Callen asked.

"You thinking undercover?" Sam asked. Callen nodded.

"I should warn you, Mr. Callen, that there have been several undercover agents that have turned up dead or gone missing while attempting to deal with Arboreal," Hetty cautioned. "Somehow he knows who the agents are, which says somehow, somewhere, we have a mole or a hacker."

"Understood," said Callen. "That's why, once we find our target, we go deep cover."

"Find him and nail his head to the floor," said Hetty.

"Happily," said Sam.

"Try _Tall-Tree Custom Furniture_," said Nell, bringing up the company. "They import a lot of exotic wood for some very wealthy clients, and there have been reports of beatings and at least one death connected to Arboreal around the company."

Sam looked at Callen, who looked at him. "Gibbs," they both said. Gibbs, with his wood-working skills, would be perfect for such a place, and he was already on the way.

"Nell..." said Callen.

"One deep cover for Jethro Gibbs coming up," was the reply.

"Excellent," said Hetty.  
"Let's go play rich boys," said Sam, rubbing his hands eagerly. He loved this part; it meant dressing up.

"Bodyguard or playboy?" Callen asked as they headed for the costume area of OSP.

"I get the playboy, you get the bodyguard. That way, you can case the place," Sam said.

"Fair enough."

Downstairs, Dabi watched the two men with amusement.

"What's the game?" she asked.

"Sam's a rich boy looking for quality, customized furniture made with exotic wood," said Callen. "I'm his bodyguard."

"We're talking teak, British elm, maybe even European walnut?" Dabi asked.

"You know wood?" Callen asked.

"Dad's a wood-worker, remember? I spent a whole afternoon with him at a lumberyard one time."

"That must've made for an interesting afternoon," said Sam, emerging from the changing room.

"It was fair, considering he spent the morning with me at the bakery." She grinned. "Despite my best efforts, he still can't turn out a baking powder biscuit that doesn't resemble a hockey puck."

"Now that takes skill," said Sam. "Whatcha watching?"

"The Thomas Crown Affair. I'm having a Pierce Brosnan fit," she replied. " After this I'm going to see if any of his James Bond movies were subtitled," said Dabi.

"I thought you already had a boyfriend."

"I do. That doesn't mean I can't look; I just can't try on. Besides, I'm allowed to dream." She jerked her chin at him. "Spiffy. But isn't furniture a girl thing?"

"Normally yes, but as a guy with a lot of money, I want only the best," said Sam.

She grunted. Then an idea lit up her eyes. She reached into her backpack and pulled out a tube of lipstick. After a quick application of the lipstick (_Red Revival_ by Maybelline) she carefully stood up and came over to Sam. "Hold still." She planted a quick kiss on his cheek before flashing him a wink. "Most guys tend to forget about that until someone else tries to mention it to them."

"Smart," said Callen, joining them. "If your dad wouldn't kill us, I'd suggest you coming along as his latest girlfriend, since you clearly know something about wood."

Dabi's eyes shot up. "Can you guarantee my safety?"

"Only if you do as you're told," said Callen.

"Hetty?"

"Stay close to them and you'll be fine. I'll figure out how to explain this to your father."

"Got anything sex-ay in my size?"

Hetty looked Dabi up and down and then nodded. "Yes, I do believe we have just the thing."

"Gibbs is going to kill us," Sam muttered to Callen, watching as Hetty lead the way towards a rack of dresses.

"Only if she gets hurt," was the muttered reply. "I'll get the Ruger LCP .380, you get the knife."

"And then we both start praying."

A few minutes later, wearing a one-shoulder dress with an asymmetrical hem that started at twenty-two inches and finished at fifty-nine, in a bold floral print, with nude sling-back heels, gold jewelry and matching purse, her hair piled on top of her head, and eyes made smokey, Dabi had gone from a typical teenage girl to a hot and sexy woman, one that was sure to cause more than a few rising problems.

"If she gets hurt and Gibbs finds out, we're dead," said Callen, eyes wide.

"Death would be merciful," said Sam, eyes just as wide.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

"Hoo-yah," John Damery muttered to his co-worker, Gordon Hancock. The man looked up from writing in the log book to see what his co-worker was drooling over.

A leggy red head had just entered the store, on the arm of a muscular bald black man, whose suit and watch screamed money. The woman was carrying a cute-looking terrier dog, who was sporting a possible diamond collar. Walking in front of them was a guy with a crew cut, shades, and a barely-concealed gun under his suit jacket. Bodyguard. And that meant money, big money.

"You the owner?" the black man demanded to them.

"He's not here at the moment," said Gordon. "But I'm his son, Gordon Hancock, and this is my co-worker, John Damery. Welcome to _Tall-Tree Custom Furniture_. What can we do for you today?"

"I've been told you guys are some of the best in the custom furniture business," said the man. "I'm looking for something special for my girl." He beamed at the woman, and she giggled at the attention. The bodyguard just stood there, looking around.

Gordon came around the counter and led the way to their selection of custom furniture, talking as he did.

"Well, you've come to the right place. Everything we make is made by hand and we use only the best wood around. We are very demanding when it comes to the quality of our work."

"Quality is one thing, but it ain't worth green if it ain't gone green, if you get my meaning," said the man.

"I do, which is why we refuse to import wood from non-sustainable forests," said Gordon smoothly. "Also, all of our stains, lacquers, and varnishes are environmentally friendly and meet California's strict environmental laws."

"Are you guys involved in any of those forest conservation programs, like umm, American Lands or the Cascadia Forest Alliance?" the woman piped up.

"We work with several organizations," said Gordon, not recognizing either organization, and not really caring. He could talk the talk with the best of them, as long as they spent the money.

"What kind of wood are you looking for, darling?" the man asked his woman.

She put a finger to her red lips and appeared to think. "I hear British elm is quite the thing right now. Teak is nice but it's so common. I mean, everyone has some."

"British elm? That's a good choice. It's strong but durable," said Gordon.

"Good, because I just _love_ hand-carved stuff," said the woman brightly.

"_And I know someone who would just love to get into your panties_," thought Gordon, watching the way John was watching the woman.

The woman noticed John watching her, and when he smiled at her in what he thought was a sexy manner, she gave him a look that could have curdled milk. No, this darling was not a player.

As he talked his spiel and the man made all the right noises, the bodyguard never went far from them. Then the woman handed the dog to the man and said, "I have a small personal problem. Could I avail you of your facilities?" She pouted prettily at him and he nodded.

"John? Show the lady our washroom please."

"Sure thing. This way, ma'am," said John, gesturing towards the back of the store.

"Back in a minute, darling," said the woman, planting a smacking kiss on the man's cheek.

As she sauntered off behind John, Gordon turned to the man and his bodyguard.

"So is there anything in particular you're looking for?"

The man folded his arms across his chest and rubbed his chin, flashing a gold watch that screamed big money, and said, "I'm not really sure. I'll know it when I see it."

Gordon groaned mentally but pasted a pleasant smile on his face.

In the back, Dabi scowled at the condition of the tiny bathroom. She took out her encrypted cell phone and quickly sent Nell a message.

"_Bathroom stinks. Who are they kidding?_"

"_Can you get a view of the back area?_"

"_I'll try but I may have to do a little ball busting; John appears to be very interested in me._"

"_Play it up but don't let him get too close. If there's a problem, scream._"

"_Understood._"

Dabi put her cell away and straightened her dress before taking a deep breath, flushing the toilet and running the tap briefly.

The mission was simple; check out the work area of _Tall-Tree_ and see if there were any hints of weapons or something not quite right. All she had to do was let her necklace, a flashy gold necklace that was actually a live-feed video camera, see everything.

Outside, leaning against the wall, was John. He made her skin crawl and she barely refrained from her lip curling in disgust.

Instead, she looked at him and smiled. "Is there a chance I could see your work shop?" she chirped. "It would really, really help me decide what kind of furniture and wood to get, if I knew how you handled it."

A gleam entered John's eyes.

"Normally we don't allow clients back here, for safety reasons, I'm sure you understand, but if we're careful, I can make an exception for a pretty lady like you."

Dabi gave him her brightest smile and followed him through the building.

The work area, where everything was made, was huge. There were work benches, where two guys were working on what looked like a bed frame, wood of varying types neatly piled against one wall, all the way to the ceiling, and an area that looked like it was for varnishing and staining.

She took her time, oohing and cooing over whatever John was showing her.

Then, on the way back, he made a mistake, one Dabi had been hoping he'd make. John was a good-looking man, but Dabi was spoken for, and the idea of an older man lusting after her made her insides twist sickly.

"So you like dark meat, huh? That must be fun," said John, as they headed back to the show room.

Dabi stopped in her tracks and said softly, "I'm sorry, what did you say?"

If he hadn't been lusting after her, he might have heard the dangerous tone in her voice. But he wasn't listening with his ears, as evident a few seconds later.

"You and your man; I'm guessing it's either the money or what's in his pants." He came closer, backing her up against the wall, and put one hand beside her head, his other hand fingering a lock of her hair.

"He may be big and dark, but I'm wondering if he knows how to use it, like I do," he said softly.

Dabi held up a finger, which had a perfectly applied, so-called French tip manicured nail on the tip, and tapped his nose. "I'm sure you do, Sir Don Juan, but I don't play around on my darling."

"What's he got that I don't?" he asked, just before nuzzling her neck. She had to fight the urge not to shudder. She waited until he was looking at her again before smiling.

Then she attacked. By the time she was finished, he was on the floor and in pain.

"He has class, which you very definitely don't!" she spat out, glaring at him. She stormed out of the back room, in time to see Sam and Callen looking at her with concern. "We are leaving, darling, _NOW!_ I refuse to do business with such filthy pigs!"

Grabbing Gibor from Sam, who yelped in protest, she stormed out of the store, head high. Before she exited completely, she fired off a parting shot to Gordon.

"You either get rid of that disgusting, low-life prick you call John, or I swear I will sue your business so far into the ground your grandchildren will still be paying the damned cost!"

And with that, she headed for the car, Callen and Sam right behind her.

As Callen peeled out of the parking lot, Dabi checked her cell.

"_Nicely done_," was the message from Nell. "You want another shower?"

"_YES!_"


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

"How is he, Doctor?" Kensi asked the physician attending Paul Macabe. They were at the hospital, where Macabe and his wife had been taken after the shooting.

"He's in rough shape. The bullets hit his lungs and stomach but missed his heart," said the doctor, a woman with black hair pulled back in a bun. Her name tag read, "_Dr. Fredrick_". "Time will tell, but if no complications develop, he should pull through."

"And his wife?" Deeks asked.

"Now her I'm worried about. One of the bullets went through her chest and lodged in her spine. I'm waiting on test results, but I've got a bad feeling she may wind up paralyzed. Any idea who did this and why?"

"We're investigating the shooting but we don't have any answers yet," said Kensi smoothly. "In the mean time, we'd recommend guards for them. Would it be possible to talk to either of them?"

"Mr. Macabe is conscious but we're keeping Mrs. Macabe under sedation until we can determine the extent of the damage to her spine," said Dr. Fredrick. "Keep your visit short please."

"Understood, doctor," said Deeks.

Paul Macabe was conscious, but hooked up to several monitors and i.v's and even oxygen.

"Mr. Macabe, I'm Agent Blye, NCIS, and this is Detective Deeks, LAPD. I understand you're in a lot of pain, but we need to ask you some questions about the shooting."

"I'll try," Macabe wheezed. "I'll try."

"Take your time," Deeks soothed. "Do you know why someone would want to hurt you or your family? Has anyone threatened you or your family, or maybe your business?"

Macabe nodded. "Some bastard tried to get me to go into smuggling with him. Weapons, I think. Offered me a huge chunk of change for it. I said no. I run a clean export business, one my parents built with their bare hands. Said I wasn't going to get involved in that, no matter how much money they offered."

"I'm guessing they didn't take too kindly to that answer," said Kensi. "You get a name?"

"Just his middle man. Some puffed-up punk who called himself J-Man, because he always got the job done." Macabe snorted in disgust. "His ego was the size of his ass; huge. Said he worked for someone named Mister Omen. I showed J-Man and his buddies the door. Next day my car's vandalized and one of my workers attacked."

"Anyone claim credit?" Deeks asked.

"Yeah, that low-life, J-Man. Said it was going to get worse if I didn't sign on."

"It got worse," Kensi guessed.

"Get my son, get him to show you the cameras," said Macabe.

"Where is he? I thought he'd be here with you or your wife," said Kensi.

Macabe shook his head.

"I sent him back to the store. After this, I trust no one."

"Trust us, Mr. Macabe, to get to the bottom of this," said Kensi. "For you and your wife's safety, we'll be posting a guard outside your rooms, okay?"

"Get that bastard. Get him," Macabe whispered tiredly.

"We plan on it, sir," said Deeks. "Any special requests?"

"If he paralyzes my wife, return the favor," Macabe growled.

"Gladly," said Deeks.

As they left, Kensi put in a call to Ops. Eric answered. "Check out someone calling himself J-Man. According to our victim, he claimed to be the middle man to Arboreal Omen, or Mr. Omen, as he was called."

"_On it_," said Eric.

"Status on the others?" Kensi asked.

"_In progress but safe so far_," Eric reported. "_Although Callen is wondering if Dabi's heels are going to be strong enough_."

"Trouble?"

"_Just somebody making a pass at her_."

"Bet she loves that."

"_If you hear screaming, it's probably the guy she just kicked_," Eric said easily before signing off.

"Trouble?" Deeks asked.

"Dabi's debating whether or not to knee a guy making a pass at her. Eric says if we hear screaming, ignore it."

"Gotcha. I've never met Agent Gibbs, but are the stories true?"

"Which ones?" Kensi asked, smirking.

"Abby said he once shot a runner in the ass with a rifle?"

"True. Guy couldn't sit properly for a week. He was a stalker who was murdering women who looked like his ex-girlfriend. One of the victims was a Navy officer. Gibbs was not happy."

"How much happier is he going to be when he finds out Dabi is doing undercover work?"

"That's what I'm worried about," said Kensi, cringing at the thought.

_Vintage Imports_ was, for all appearances, almost like an antique store. When Kensi stepped inside, she swore it felt like she had stepped back in time or even into a bazaar. She saw wooden carvings, hand-crafted jewelry, ornate furniture, and even a mirror she would have loved to have in her apartment.

There was just one problem with the place; the front windows were fractured with bullet holes and there was still blood on the sidewalk. Several pieces had been on display on the sidewalk and they, too, bore fresh evidence of the drive-by shooting.

Inside, they identified themselves to Macabe's son, Marcus, and asked for the video his father had told him about.

He practically shoved the disks into their hands.

"Here, take them! Anything you can find that'll help get those bastards!" Marcus snapped.

"You ever meet J-Man?" Deeks asked.

Marcus' lip curled. "That fat, disgusting slob? Could barely even get in the front door. He wanted us to start importing extras with our regular imports. Dad didn't trust him, especially when he found out the extras weren't exactly legal."

"Guns?" Kensi suggested.

"I don't know, I don't care. My grandparents built this store from the ground up with honest, hard work and Dad wasn't about to let some punk destroy that!"

"I can understand," said Deeks. "This is a nice store. You going to be okay?"

"I will be, once I know how Mom is. The docs are afraid the bullet in her spine may paralyze her."

"Do you have help?" Kensi asked.

Marcus nodded. "Mom's uncle is coming over to help, and I've pulled some staff in."

"Good." Kensi gave him her card. "If J-Man shows up again, or if you get a call that makes you suspicious, anything like that, you call us right away, okay?"

Marcus accepted the card, nodding. "You get these bastards, and I'll personally make sure you get a discount off anything in this store," he promised.

_OSP:_

"You guys booked me out of my room at the hotel?" Dabi repeated, eyebrows up. She was back at OSP and out of the dress. The video was being analyzed and they were waiting on the video from _Vintage Imports_.

"Had to," said Callen. "I don't trust Arboreal Omen to find you, so yeah, we pulled you out. The excuse was a family emergency."

"And my gear?"

"Already brought here."

"So do I stay here until Dad arrives or what?"

"You're safe here," said Sam. "And with us."

"Only if you don't have a fully equipped kitchen and baking selection," said Dabi.

"Why?" Callen asked suspiciously.

"Because when I get bored, I bake, and if I don't have anything to bake with, I get antsy, which you really don't want." She smiled sweetly. "It's to your benefit; I make a coffee cheesecake Dad swears by, and he's a coffee addict."

"My wife would love you," said Sam.

"Her waistline wouldn't," said Dabi, smirking.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

Knowing it was going to take time for Eric and Nell to go through the video and knowing Gibbs was due to show up, Sam took Dabi shopping. She would stay with him and his family for the time being.

On the way back, with an armful of baking-related groceries, Sam stopped to get some gas at a local 7-Eleven. Dabi decided she wanted a Slurpee and headed inside with Gibor, after swearing on her life to Sam to watch her surroundings.

When she was heading back to the car, a medium-size Dr. Pepper Slurpee in hand, something caught Gibor's attention near the garbage bins.

"Gibor! We need to leave!" Dabi called, while Sam glared.

But Gibor ignored them; instead, he started whining and pawing at a box that had garbage on it.

Curious, Dabi came over and lifted the box up, revealing the oddest-looking kitten she'd ever seen.

Black and white, with bright blue eyes, the tiny kitten had no bones in his forearms and walked on his elbows instead.

Gibor barked and his tail started wagging. The kitten hissed at him.

"Feisty little kitty, aren't you?" said Sam, grinning.

Carefully, Dabi picked the kitten up, who immediately started purring.

"We can't keep him," said Sam.

"Wanna bet?" Dabi shot back, cuddling the kitten protectively.

That was how they wound up at a veterinary.

The veterinarian explained that the three or four-week old kitten had a genetic condition known as radial agenisis, where the bones in his forearms never developed.

It wasn't common, but it also wasn't uncommon, as evident by a website known as _Love Meow_. Otherwise, aside from being hungry and a bit thin, he was okay. The veterinarian recommend various protective shots when he was a bit older.

Gibor refused to let the kitten out of his sight. For Dabi and Sam, it was comical to watch, especially when the kitten finally stopped hissing at the dog and started trying to play with him.

"Your dog just found a new best friend," said Sam, grinning at the pair.

"Now I just have to figure out how to get him home."

Back at OSP, Eric and Nell had an up-date for them.

"J-Man, otherwise known as Louie Harrus," said Eric. "He has a record a mile long for various nasty things, most of it dealing with assault and battery and anything involving weapons."

"We have him on video assaulting a staff member from _Vintage Imports_, which is enough to get him arrested," said Nell.

"So let's get him arrested and brought to the boathouse," said Deeks.

"First we've got to find him," said Eric.

"Which is what I thought you two were experts at," said Callen, pointedly.

"Which is what we're already doing," Nell shot back. "We've also managed to identify this guy," she said, pulling up the grainy picture Dabi had taken earlier. "Meet Aaron Belmore, no residential address aside from a post office box."

"And?" Kensi asked.

"And that's it. Clean driver's abstract, one bank account, no Internet addresses that we can find, not even a passport or credit card. This guy is about as off the grid as you can get," said Nell. "The only thing we could find was his name on a few passenger manifests to various cities around the States, plus a monthly check from a shell corporation that we're still trying to trace. He pays for the airline ticket and that's it. The rest of the money goes into a savings account that's currently in excess of several hundred thousand dollars."

"So what's his connection to the warehouse where we found Joseph Fielding?" Callen asked.

"At this point, your guess is as good as ours," said Nell.

"And you guys need to plan to loosen your belts," said Sam, coming into the room. "Dabi just unloaded enough baking stuff to do about four different recipes, and Gibor's got a new friend."

"Hiya buddy!" said Deeks, getting down to the floor to accept an enthusiastic face-licking from Gibor. Right behind him was a tiny black and white kitten who was walking on his elbows.

While Nell and Kensi cooed over the kitten, Dabi and Sam explained.

"What are your grandparents going to think?" Callen asked.

"My roommate, Fran, is already demanding pictures of him, and Nana and Pop-Pop have agreed to get a litter box and food dish for him. They even suggested a name for him; Jed, which means God's friend in Hebrew."

"He's a lucky little guy," said Callen, scratching Jed's head. Kensi put the kitten down and he immediately toddled over to Gibor and tried to 'attack' him.

"Luck is the only thing that's stopping me from putting a bullet up your ass!" came Supervisory Agent Gibbs' voice as he stormed into the room.

"Hi Dad, nice to see you, Dad. You were supposed to beep me when you got in, Dad," said Dabi, going to him and accepting his tight hug.

"You're supposed to be at a nice, safe conference," Gibbs snapped. "Not running around chasing after bad guys!" He had just arrived at OSP and been up-dated on the case by Hetty. Needless to say, he was not happy.

"It's not my fault some loser had more bullets than brains! Besides, I got a look at one of the guys and managed to put a round in him in retaliation for putting a round in someone else!" Dabi shot back.

Gibbs glanced at Hetty, who nodded in confirmation.

"How the hell did you get your hands on a gun in the first place?" Gibbs demanded.

"I was with Kensi and she had hers with her but when the shooting started, some guy built like King Kong tackled us. She got the worst of it. I grabbed her gun and popped a few rounds off."

"And she did a most excellent job of it," said Hetty. "One of the street cameras caught the action."

"Did you at least catch the guy?" Gibbs demanded.

"Sort of. My putting a bullet in him made him a liability to some guy named Arboreal Omen, and he wound up with a second bullet, this one between his eyes," said Dabi.

"Wait a minute; Arboreal Omen? Are you serious?" Gibbs demanded, looking at the others, who nodded in confirmation.

"That's what I was told," said Dabi, shrugging.

"Damnit," Gibbs growled.

Dabi's eyebrows shot up. "Your hit list too?"

"He's known to us," said Gibbs. "We've had a few dead Navy officers because of him."

"We suspect him of gun running and trying to force some local import businesses to do the running," said Callen.

"That's him, alright," said Gibbs. Then he spotted Jed. "What's with the furball?"

"I wish I knew. Gibor found him when Sam and I did a pit stop at a 7-Eleven. The vet says he has something called radial agenisis. The bones in his forearms never developed," said Dabi.

"Never heard of that before," said Gibbs. "How's his life expectancy?"

"Apparently quite good, especially if he's neutered. He gets around on his elbows."

Watching the kitten play with Gibor, moving around on his elbows and behaving like a typical kitten, Gibbs had to admit he could see why Dabi had taken to him. "What are you going to do with him?"

Dabi shrugged. "Keep him if I can. Maybe catch a ride back to DC to get around the animal problem.

"You got a name for him?"

"Jed. It's a Hebrew name for God's friend, according to Pop-Pop."

"You know you did it again, don't you?" said Gibbs. At his daughter's quizzical expression, he explained. "You saved another life."

"I'm not sure who saved who this time," Dabi admitted. "All I know is I couldn't turn my back on him. He needs a flea bath, which is going to be so much fun. But if he starts going where me and Gibor go, it's not my fault!"

"In the mean time, Agent Gibbs, how do you feel about going undercover?" Hetty asked.

"As?"

"A wood worker. It seems Dabi managed to get an employee of _Tall-Tree Custom Furnishings _fired," said Hetty.

Gibbs saw the look on his daughter's face. "You enjoyed that, didn't you?"

"The slimy pervert had it coming," said Dabi, a satisfied smirk on her face.

"I think you're spending way too much time around Ziva and Abby," said Gibbs.

"Speaking of which, that reminds me, how loud did Tony scream?" Dabi asked innocently.

"He had coffee in his hand when it happened," said Gibbs. "That was his favorite suit, you know. To quote him, you ain't seen nothing yet."

Dabi's eyes went wide. "Oopsie."


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

Thanks to his wood-working skills, Gibbs had an easy time getting in with _Tall-Tree Custom Furnishings._ Someone did run his background, according to Nell, who had been watching, but thanks to the work she and Eric had done, nothing out of the ordinary was discovered about "Joseph 'Joe' Reid", Gibbs' cover name. As far as anyone knew, he was just an honest, hard-working fellow who was new to the area and looking for work.

It took him less than a week to get settled in and less than that for Sam's wife, Quinn, to start complaining about how her waistline was expanding. According to Sam, who was cheerfully devouring yet another slice of peanut butter chocolate pie, Dabi was quite the baker. His family loved her baking but his wife was starting to feel the effects on her hips, or so she claimed.

"You're going to feel the effects on your hips if you don't stop eating everything she puts in front of you," Callen shot back, watching Gibbs through his binoculars as they did surveillance, watching both Gibbs and _Tall-Tree Custom Furnishings._ Until and unless Gibbs gave the word, they would be keeping a close eye on him.

"I can't help it! It's good!" Sam said.

"Now you know why Dabi has plans to take over her grandparents' bakery," said Callen. "She's being taught by the best."

Inside the furnishing store, Gibbs was helping unload a shipment of wood. He hadn't even been on the job for more than six hours before he figured out who the distributor contact was; it was Carmichael, and Nell and Eric were already hard at work digging through his life.

"Be careful around Ryan; people have been known to get hurt around him," said Vince Sterling in a low voice to Gibbs as they worked on sanding some wood in preparation for staining that first day he was there. Sterling was a quiet young man with a good head on his shoulders and steady hands that had plenty of calluses. "It's never actually been proven, but a lot of the guys have been told they should have known better after being hurt in a so-called accident, accidents that usually occur after they've had an issue with Ryan over something or another."

"So what do you suggest I do?" Gibbs asked.

"Keep your head down and your mouth shut, and if Ryan asks you to do something, do it, and don't ask questions," was the reply. "You'll be a lot safer that way, you hear me?"

"Loud and clear."

Sterling had been cleared, nothing having been found in his background to suggest any connection to Arboreal Omen or any suspicious. But today Gibbs couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong. No one had seen Sterling all day and the only thing that Carmichael had said about Sterling was that he hadn't heard from him. The store boss, Frank Hancock, was understandably pissed off.

"I've got a big shipment of wood coming in and Sterling knew that and knew I was going to need every man I had," Hancock was overheard grousing to Carmichael.

"What about the new guy, Reid?" Carmichael asked. "He seems to be willing to pull his weight around here."

"You think he can handle it?"

"If he can't, we'll find out, won't we?"

Hancock nodded. "Hey Reid!"

And that was how Gibbs found himself unloading the wood shipment. Some of it was tools and some of it was wood-staining material, but most of it was good, high quality lumber. It was hard work, even with six men working steadily, but after about three hours, Hancock called for a break and Gibbs used the chance to check his text messages.

Then his blood ran cold, even in the sweltering sun.

"_10-0 V/S 10-40 vehicle 10-54D possible Code 30_." Translation, be careful. Vince Sterling had been in a possible vehicle accident and there was a possible death, with initial reports suggesting a homicide.

That was the first message. The second message read, "_11-46 10-19 ASAP_." The first report was confirmed and he was being told to get back to OSP as quickly as possible, which wasn't going to be possible without raising suspicion. Eric and Nell must have realized that because there was a third message, this one from Dabi, claiming to be his landlord.

"_The building water heater just blew up. I need you to come by your apartment and make sure nothing has been damaged. Thxs._"

Gibbs showed the message to Hancock, who scowled, but let him go, after Gibbs swore up and down he'd be in to work on time the next day.

"With Vince missing, I need all the help I can get," Hancock said.

"Understood, sir," said Gibbs. "I'll do my best; all I know how to do."

Gibbs quickly headed back to OSP in the battered pick-up truck that had been 'bought' exclusively for the mission under his cover name. There was a tail but he quickly lost it.

"_Amateur_," he thought.

In the Control Room, everyone was waiting for him. Reports were already on the screen.

"At about eight a.m. this morning Vince's brakes suddenly failed and he went off an overpass bridge while on his way to work," Eric said. "He was killed on impact and it took emergency crews a while to sort through the mess. Initial witness reports suggested brake problems and forensic reports are starting to confirm it."

"This is not a coincidence," said Hetty. "Not so soon after you are hired by _Tall-Tree_."

"Rule Thirty-Nine; there's no such thing as a coincidence, which leads to Rule Thirty-Five; always watch the watchers," said Gibbs. "Take a look at Ryan Carmichael, the foreman."

"We have been," said Eric. "This guy has money problems left, right, and center, and he's getting a lot of it taken care of by an influx of money from one of Omen's holding companies, which is putting it into a savings account under his name."

"We checked the dates of the deposits, and they match up to dates ships from Europe come in, ships that have cargo for _Tall-Tree,_" said Nell. "There's another one coming in tomorrow morning from now and it has an interesting stop; in Egypt, where one of Omen's holding companies is."

"Weapons," said Deeks.

"Has to be," said Kensi.

"Follow that ship," said Hetty.

"Following," said Nell.

"Let's get Carmichael down to the boathouse for a little chat," said Callen. "If we lean on him, maybe we can find out exactly what's supposed to be on that ship and who is signing off on it."

"We'll grab him," said Kensi.

But there was something nagging at Gibbs and Hetty could see it. "What is it, Jethro?" she asked.

"I got in too easy," he said. "Maybe way too easy."

"And you think we're being played," said Hetty.

"Rule Thirty-six; if you think you're being played, you probably are," said Gibbs. "Is Dabi safe?"

"She's with Quinn, my wife, who's a former CIA agent; she's as safe as she's going to get," said Sam. "Quinn even promised to teach Dabi some more moves that are supposed to be exclusive to CIA operatives."

"Check my personnel files," Gibbs instructed Nell and Eric. "See if anyone's been peeking when they don't need to be."

"Understood," said Eric, mentally adding it to the long list of things he had to do.


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

When Gibbs got back to _Tall-Tree_, it was to be asked by Hancock to join them at the docks in the morning to help unload a large shipment of wood that was due in, the same shipment that Gibbs knew was being tracked.

"What about Vince, sir?" Gibbs asked.

Hancock sighed heavily. "I just got word; Vince was killed in an accident this morning."

"Damn. I'm sorry to hear that. What happened?"

"I don't know," said Hancock. "All I know is that one of his buddies called here, saying Vince had been killed and the cops are investigating. The guy didn't know much beyond that." He looked at Gibbs, who looked back at him with a look of sympathy on his face. "That means I'm gonna be seriously short-handed. I got a lot of wood coming in. I know you're fairly new here but are you willing to put in some over-time? I need all the help I can get right now."

"Of course, sir," said Gibbs. "You just tell me where to go and I'll be there. Is there any special equipment I'll need?"

"Just a pair of good, heavy-duty steel-toe boots and some work gloves," said Hancock. "Out of respect for Vince, I'm closing the store for the rest of the day, but I'll expect to see you down at the docks bright and early."

"Understood, sir," said Gibbs.

Gibbs headed for what was home for Reid, and spent the rest of the day puttering around and watching television. He text Dabi, who assured him she was doing okay, and so were her furry companions. She missed him but understood that this was the way it was with undercover investigations. In fact, she was wondering if she would be better off back in Washington. Gibbs was starting to think so too. He would talk to Hetty about it in the morning, when he met up with the rest of the team for the possible take-down.

In the morning Gibbs met up with Callen, Sam, Kensi, and Deeks, who were gathered at a coffee shop. It had been set up to look like they were just a bunch of buddies meeting up for a quick coffee before heading for work, as all of them were dressed in jeans, work shirts, and even work boots.

"It's all set. Here's your coffee," said Callen, handing Gibbs a cup of coffee and a bag that appeared to have a donut in it but also contained an ear bug for later.

"Thanks, bud; I owe you one," said Gibbs, accepting the coffee and donut.

"We'll be hitting the building pretty hard today so don't be surprised if you hear screaming when it comes down," said Sam. Flash-bangs were going to be used, hence the screaming; they were hell on unprotected ears and eyes.

"I'll be watching," said Gibbs, a smirk on his face.

"When you're ready to go for lunch, give me a yell," said Kensi, coming up to Gibbs and adjusting his shirt collar, planting a tracking bug under it. "We could have some fun later." She gave him a playful smile that Gibbs returned.

"Depends on what Hancock says. He was offering some serious over-time with Vince's death and I need all the money I can get, especially if I'm going to keep up with you," said Gibbs. "I know how you like your toys, but mine needs up-grading and possibly repairs."

"That old junker?" Kensi scoffed. "I'm surprised it still runs."

"I know a buddy who can get you the parts you need. When you're ready, they'll be waiting for you," said Callen. A weapon for Gibbs would be ready for him when it was time to take everyone down.

"Gotcha," said Gibbs. "What about the little one?" What was Dabi up to today?

"She's going shopping with her auntie and then Big Momma's going to send her home," said Sam. Dabi was going shopping with Quinn and then Hetty was going to send Dabi home to Washington, where she would be safer. Or at least that was the theory.

"Sounds like fun," said Gibbs.

Gibbs arrived at the docks and spotted Hancock's truck. He ambled over to the man and nodded. "Morning, sir," he said.

"Reid. Good morning. You ready to work?" Hancock asked.

"Always, sir," said Gibbs.

"Good. The rest of the guys should be joining us shortly."

"What do we have, sir?" Gibbs asked.

"Our company imports wood from a supplier in Europe, which is how we get the kind of wood our clients demand," said Hancock. "We should have at least three cargo containers of wood coming in and we need to get them unloaded and emptied in time for the ship to do a turn-around."

"How fast?"

"We have a maximum of six hours. I should warn you, the containers are jam-packed."

"Sounds like fun to me, sir," said Gibbs.

"Then lets git 'er at 'em," said Hancock, liking Gibbs, or rather Reid, more and more.

Gibbs had been working steadily for an hour on one container when he saw something unusual; crates. He called Hancock over.

"Sir, according to the shipping manifest you showed me, we shouldn't be expecting anything like this," said Gibbs.

Hancock studied the paperwork in front of him, a scowl furrowing his brow. "You're right. Ryan would know about this," he said.

"Where is he?"

"Damned if I know. Son of a bitch ain't answering his phone," Hancock groused.

"_That's because LAPD just responded to a drive-by shooting and guess who the victim was?_" said Nell over Gibbs' radio.

Gibbs only just managed to keep a straight face. Between him and Hancock, they uncovered three more crates.

"Damned if I know what's going on," muttered Hancock. "Somebody find me a crowbar; this is my cargo and I'm-a gonna have a look inside! If it ain't straight, it's history!"

"I'll go get one, sir," said Gibbs. "And that's your cue," he muttered.

"Converging now," said Callen. "Flash-bangs in five, four, three, two, one... now!"

Gibbs hit the ground and squeezed his eyes shut, slamming his hands over his ears.

It was on, but what no one knew was that at the same time that was going on, so was something else across town.

Dabi and Quinn were coming out of a grocery store, a shopping cart laden with groceries. They were giggling about something when a dark blue van suddenly pulled up in front of them and four men, all dressed in dark clothing, poured out and headed straight for them.

The fight was on. It only stopped when Dabi went limp in one of her attacker's arms, the victim of a tranquilizer injection to her neck. The minute the attackers had Dabi was the minute they stopped fighting with Quinn and tore out of the parking lot, leaving broken eggs, flour, and foaming Pepsi all over the place.

Breathing hard, Quinn got on the phone to Sam. They had a situation, a bad one.

Over at the docks, the take-down was over but the problems were just beginning. During the take-down, six men had emerged and begun shooting at them, with three men from Hancock's store joining in on the fight. All of them were down and Nell was already running faces and names.

"It's a set-up!" Callen said, realization dawning on his face as they stared at the rock and stone-filled crates they had just opened. "There's nothing here!"

"_Guys, we've got a big problem_," said Eric, panic in his voice.

"Ya think?!" Gibbs shot back.

"_Someone accessed Gibbs' personnel file, someone who had legal access to that information, and the tags say it was done shortly after he was hired by Tall-Tree_," Eric reported. "_That's why we didn't know about the little peek-a-boo._"

"Which means they know who he really is," Callen snarled.

"_Worse; they know about Dabi_," said Eric.

"Hanna!" Gibbs yelled.

But Sam was already on his phone, which had just gone off. "Quinn!" he yelled frantically to his wife. His eyes went wide as he listened to his wife. "What happened? Tell me what happened!" Then, "Oh my god. Baby, are you okay?" He nodded. "I'll let them know. You get somewhere safe, you hear me? We'll get there as quickly as we can, I promise." He hung up and joined up with the rest of the team. "This was a set-up, no two ways about it. Quinn and Dabi were just attacked outside a grocery store. Quinn wasn't seriously hurt, but Dabi was taken and Quinn thinks she may have been the original target."

"Taken where?" Gibbs demanded. "Taken where? By whom?" He was practically shouting, not that anyone could blame him.

"I think you know who," said Callen. "Someone, possibly Omen, found out who you were, and took Dabi as revenge or a way of keeping NCIS and every federal agency off-guard."

"Find out how he found out!" Gibbs yelled.

"_Already on it_," said Nell soothingly, her fingers already flying across the keyboard. "_As soon as I know, you know_."

"The whole thing was a set-up," said Deeks. "Had you not had back-up, you would have likely been killed. I think that's what Omen was counting on."

Then Kensi spotted something and a nasty smile came to her face. "But he didn't count on one of his hired hands surviving to tell the tale," she said, ambling over to one heavy-set man who was starting to stir.

It took two hours of heavy pressure, threats, and manipulation to get them a name. During that time, Quinn had joined them in the boathouse.

"Dabi put up one hell of a fight. She used the flour, the eggs, and even a bottle of pop in ways I've never seen," said Quinn. "The only reason she went down was because one of the guys shoved a needle in her neck before throwing it away."

"It's being analyzed now, but preliminary reports suggest it was Thorazine," said Callen. "Anyone would have gone down with that in their system."

"The way that she fought, that's a testament to you, sir, and that tells me that when she wakes up, those bastards are going to have their hands full with her," said Quinn.

Kensi emerged from the boat house interrogation room with a satisfied grin on her face.

"Well?" Gibbs demanded.

"It's a good thing we know someone in Honolulu, Hawaii," she said. "That's where the plane carrying Dabi is supposed to be heading to."

"I'll make the call," said Callen. "You," he said, pointing to Gibbs, "get on the next flight as soon as Eric or Nell can find you one."

"And I," said Hetty, "will get in touch with the Hawaiian governor down there. I do believe he'll appreciate the heads-up."

_Coasting quietly through the skies, heading for the first of several stops on the way to the Hawaiian islands..._

Dabi moaned softly but didn't wake up. She had been placed on one of the beds on the small, private jet and cuffed.

Omen stared at her, coldness in his eyes. NCIS had crossed him again and this time, someone was going to pay, even if that meant a pretty young thing like Dabi Moore-Gibbs was the price to be paid. Once he got her to the Islands, she would be turned over to one of his contacts, where she would vanish into the sex slave trade industry.

A pity. She was quite attractive. According to what he had been told, she was also quite the fighter. He liked that. Maybe he might break her himself before turning her over.

Maybe.

_To be continued..._


End file.
